Page 29 of Unexpected Pickle
“You can make cheese from nuts?” He scratches his forehead.
“With a blender.” I glance around. “There is probably a processor somewhere.”
“I’ll just eat them.”
“Sure.”
He picks up a lemon and rolls it between his palms, looking over his spread. “So…how do you cook risotto?”
I bite my lip. I’m going to have to make a choice right now. Either I am in this to be impressive and learn, or I’m here to help Hex.
He must see the battle going on in my head, because he holds up his hands. “You know what? It’s fine. I have Google and YouTube. I will get this done.”
I look over my ingredients. Four minutes to chop. Two minutes to heat. Eight minutes to cook potatoes, if I make them ultra fine. Eggs only two minutes more on a hot pan.
I have extra time.
“I can get you started,” I tell him. “Mine is easy.”
“It doesn’t look easy,” he says. “Is that salmon? For breakfast?”
I move in front of his station. “You need to toast your risotto before you add water. Grab a skillet.”
He stares up at the assortment of pans. “This one, I guess?” He reaches for a large pot.
“Try this.” I pull down a large sauté pan. “It has more coverage on the bottom, but the sides are tall so you can add liquid.”
“Okay.”
I turn on his burner. When it flames up, Hex jumps back. “Whoa. Is that supposed to happen?”
I turn to him. “Have you ever turned on a stove before?”
“Not one with fire!”
God. He’s only used an electric. “This is a gas stove. It’s easier to control the heat.”
“Yeah, I guess I knew that. I have one of those flat things at home with a smooth surface. Not that I’ve turned it on. And my parents had one with the rings that turn red.”
I nod. “That’s not unusual. Spread some oil in the pan and let it heat. Then pour your risotto into the bottom and stir it up so it toasts.”
“Got it.”
He dumps way too much oil into the pan, but that’s fine. He’s not expecting to win on perfection.
I turn to my potato and quickly peel and cut it into thin sticks.
The smell of char reaches my nose, and I look up to see some of Hex’s risotto smoking.
“Is it supposed to do that?” he asks.
“Oh, no.” I lunge forward and use my dish towel to move the pan off the burner.
“You’re supposed to use your towel to hold the pan?” he asks.
“Yes, Hex. Professional pans don’t have cooling handles because they aren’t tough enough to withstand heavy use.”
“I’m glad you touched it first. I totally would have picked it up with my hand.”
